So I took the kid and dog out yesterday (it was a balmy +6*F) to alleviate a bit of cabin fever. I put the snowshoes on, and I tried in vain to find M’s plastic sled. I think it is buried in a snowbank. SO I found her old sled, the cute wood one with a padded seat and backrest, and tramped around the yard and down to the pond. She fell out four times, twice head-first into the snow. The sled is not the easiest thing to pull around.
That, my friends, was about as much fun as a hangover. But the cocoa afterward was fun.